Devin felt as though his heart had stopped in his chest in that instant. Lenore was in danger? Just the thought of it was enough to make him want to go rushing after her, ready to save her. He didnt know where the feeling came from, but it was there, and he knew that he couldnt stand by while she was in danger.

I need to go join the kings forces, he said, starting for the door again.

Master Grey moved in front of him. And do what?

I could… I could help fight to get her back.

And do you think there arent enough men rushing to do that? Master Grey replied. Prince Rodry has his… friends. The king has his knights and his guards. You can do nothing by going with them except bring death upon yourself.

He made it sound as certain as a stone falling from a cliff.

What do you care? Devin demanded.

I care because you are too important to throw away like this. The boy born on the dragon moon? The one from the prophecy? No, this is your role: to learn, to grow into your magic, to forge the sword.

Devin started toward the door again, but Master Grey raised a hand.

Do you think that the king will not leave you behind if I ask it? he said. He nodded to the smelter. Now, you have a task to perform. Gently this time.

Devin wanted to argue more, but he knew it would do no good. He wanted to help save Lenore, but Master Grey was frustratingly, impossibly right. He couldnt add anything to the men already riding to the rescue, couldnt be the noble warrior who saved her. This was all he could do.

He went back to the smelter, ready to try again. He could feel the frustration inside him, and not just at this. He had so many questions, and Master Grey would never answer any of them.

He would find a way to get answers though, to everything.

CHAPTER FIVE

Prince Greave was not used to ships in anything but the theoretical sense. Oh, he had read parts of Samirs On Navigation and Hussards Around the Coasts in preparation for the voyage, but neither of them had prepared him for the reality of a violently bucking sea, a crew of sailors who more or less ignored him, and a sky that seemed just one step short of a storm.

The Serpentine was a large, three-masted ship, high sided and curved so that it was like a sword cutting through the waves. Small boats sat at the side, lashed up against railings. The sailors were tough-looking men in loose, rough clothes that let them move smoothly around the ships rigging. They were tough and weathered, nothing like Greave, and they looked at his smooth skin and almost feminine looks with contempt.